


Marsh King's Daughter

by ry_chu



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Falling In Love, Gay, Internalized Homophobia, LGBT, LGBTQ, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Love, Princess - Freeform, Romance, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ry_chu/pseuds/ry_chu
Summary: Emmony knows it's her duty to marry a prince for the political and financial good of her kingdom. But somehow, she just can't fall in love. One day, she meets a young mercenary woman, and her whole world changes.(these ocs were originally inspired by the song marsh king's daughter by eisley :))





	1. Prologue

Another ball. More dances with royalty from far-off, well-to-do lands. Her father’s eyes boring into the back of her skull as she excused herself from a dragging conversation with the latest wealthy prince he’d tried to set her up with. The guards sternly blocking her from the drawbridge when she tried to go find a place out on the marshes to rest. Everyone watching as she resignedly headed up the grand staircase to her room again, and the echoing sound of her father’s booming apologies to the guests following behind her.

Another month, another ball.

She curled her knees to her chest, still wearing her ball gown, staring at the skirt’s fabric resting atop her bedsheets. Waiting, waiting until she heard the telltale thumps of heavy boots upon the stairs and the sharp knock at her door that she’d known would come. Then came the lecture. The same one she’d heard so many times. She didn’t even listen anymore, just nodded along with her father’s insistences that she was of the age to marry and that the prince of Whatever was really a nice lad, if she’d just give him a chance. Made the same promise that she would try harder to get along next time. Next time. 

She really did try at first. Every time, she’d dance with the eligible prince of the month, and talk with him for far too long, trying to make herself fall in love. But it never worked. They were all just so uninteresting, even repulsive on occasion. But it was a political matter at this point, and she knew her father was growing agitated. If she took much longer to find a groom, she knew the choice would be taken from her, and that threat of an arranged betrothal hung unsaid in the air as he left. 

Princess Emmony removed her crown and wrapped her arms around herself as she sank back into her silk sheets, too tired to undress or take her hair down. She closed her eyes and lay awake for what felt like hours before finally drifting off.


	2. Chapter 2

One evening, a week or so before the next monthly ball, Emmony snuck out. She left through a side passage in the bathroom to avoid the guards outside her room, borrowed some plain clothes from the maids’ quarters (they let her, pretending they didn’t know what she was up to), and left the castle under the guise of going out for supplies. Once outside, she pulled off the shawl she’d used to hide her face and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was so rarely able to escape her father’s overprotective tendencies that she doubted anyone in town would recognize her out of her full ball regalia. She strolled along the bridges through the marsh- they wobbled slightly under her feet, as they were built to float when it flooded- and watched as the sun sank below the horizon. Here and there, freshwater fish darted through the waters. 

It was somewhat quiet in town, but a fair amount of people still walked along the streets. Emmony nodded politely to some of them as she passed. She wasn't sure where she was going, having only gone into town a few times. Noticing a small crowd gathered at the side of the road, she slowed and approached. 

They were watching what appeared to be a friendly fencing duel, judging by the casual atmosphere and the grins on the competitors’ faces. She stopped, interested. The duel ended almost as soon as she arrived. With an expert twist of the hand, the shorter of the two fighters forced the other to drop his weapon and quickly followed up with a light jab that hit him square in the chest. The taller man, grinning appreciatively, raised his hands in defeat and gave a respectful nod. The crowd applauded and the winner gave a dramatic bow and shook the hand of the loser. 

After a couple of minutes, most of the group began to siphon off into the streets, but several followed the competitors into the tavern. Emmony hesitated for a moment before following. 

Inside, a cluster of people were talking to the winner.

“I've never seen you before, when'd you get to town?” inquired one curious bystander.

“Just this afternoon, actually.” The voice of the winner drifted across the room, and Emmony was shocked to realize it was a woman's voice. She'd never heard of a female duelist, but nobody else looked surprised. She drew closer to the table.

“What brings you here, then?” someone asked.

The woman smiled. “Oh, I'm just a mercenary. Looking for work, you know. I thought I'd seek a position in the castle's troops or something similar.” The crowd buzzed at that. A few people laughed. 

“Good luck,” said one woman dryly. “I've never seen a woman in the guard. Plenty've tried, but the king's never recruited one so far as I know.” Emmony, shocked, took a step back. That couldn’t be true, could it?

The mercenary raised an eyebrow. “Well, that's stupid.” She took a swig from her tankard. “His loss, I suppose.” 

The chatter continued for a while, but the group eventually dispersed. Emmony, unsure where to go, took a hesitant step towards the bar counter. Suddenly, she felt eyes on her. She looked over. The mercenary was looking at her, head cocked. She smiled in an embarrassed fashion and glanced away when she saw Emmony had noticed.

“Sorry, miss,” she said with a respectful nod. “Didn't mean to stare. Your beauty simply draws the eye.”

What? Emmony's face ignited with a fierce blush. She opened her mouth to respond with… something, she wasn't sure exactly what- but her voice didn't seem to be working. Was this not a woman? She didn't understand.

The mercenary looked incredulous at her response. “Surely you'd be used to compliments? All the same, my apologies if I've made you uncomfortable.”

Emmony flushed even deeper. The woman stood and approached, holding out a gloved hand. “I'm Lynette. What's your name?” 

Emmony reflexively started to raise her hand but froze, realizing that she couldn't give her name. This mercenary- Lynette- might not know of her, but even though the townspeople may not recognize her appearance, they would certainly recognize her name. She scrambled for a fake name to use, but her mind was blank.

Lynette cocked her head. “Can you not speak?”

“I- Yes, I can.” Emmony finally said. Her mouth was dry.

“Ah, it’s as I thought. Your voice is as lovely as you are.”

“I- th- thank you.” she managed to choke out. Why was she feeling so odd? It wasn’t as if she’d never been called beautiful. She heard things like that all the time from whatever princes her father was trying to set her up with.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop embarrassing you.” Lynette chuckled and gave a little bow before heading back to her table. Emmony found herself following.

“I- may I join you?” she called, surprising herself.

With a surprised look back over her shoulder, Lynette gestured to the table. “Feel free.” 

Emmony was entirely confused by her own behavior. She shook her head, trying to snap out of it. “Never… nevermind, I um… I just realized I have to go somewhere. I’m… I’m sorry.” She turned, trying to ignore the mercenary’s baffled and somewhat hurt face, and hurried out of the tavern, thoroughly embarrassed. 


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until a few days later that she saw Lynette again. Emmony was wandering restlessly around the castle grounds when she heard a voice she recognized getting rapidly closer.

“Can't I at least  _ speak  _ with the captain of the guard?”

“I've told you, we can't- Your Highness!” A guard gasped and skidded to a sharp halt in front of her, then bowed. Hot on his heels and looking irritated was Lynette. She looked up at Emmony and froze, jaw falling open. Emmony couldn't move. She stared between the two people in front of her, not knowing what to do.

The guard straightened and gave Lynette a sharp glare as he began to speak. “Apologies for the intrusion, Princess. I'll get this commoner away from the castle.” 

Lynette finally recovered from her shock. “It's you!” She cried. Emmony shook her head fiercely. Lynette glanced between her and the guard before adding, “The princess! I had been… hoping to meet you, Your Highness!” She gave a hurried curtsy and looked at Emmony, her face clearly conveying “what is happening?”.

The guard looked horrified. “Please, Princess, excuse the commoner.” He attempted to pull Lynette away, but she shrugged him off. 

“I- officer, it's alright.” Emmony managed to say. “You can return to your post. I will deal with her.”

“ _ Deal with- _ ”

“Your Highness, are you sure? I wouldn't-”

“Yes, I am quite sure,” she said, with as much firmness as she could muster. “Go on.”

The guard, looking flabbergasted, bowed again and rushed off to the drawbridge.

Lynette stared after him for a moment before whirling back around and blurting, “Pardon my language- Your Highness- but what the hell was that about?”

“I… I am not permitted to leave the castle grounds. I could not let the guards realize that I snuck out the other night.”

“ _ What? _ What are you, a  _ prisoner _ ?!” Lynette gasped, her hands balling into fists.

Emmony reddened. “It is- it is for my safety.” 

“Hm.” Lynette snorted incredulously. “I don’t think I believe that.”

_ I shouldn’t be speaking with a commoner… so why do I want to?  _ Emmony shook her head and turned away. “Believe what you wish.” She began back towards the drawbridge.

“Hold on, wait!” Lynette ran after her, catching her wrist. Emmony pulled away sharply. “Sorry- I’m sorry. You… you never told me your name.”

“... Emmony.” 

Lynette smiled. “A beautiful name. It suits you.” She stepped back. “Well, Princess Emmony… it was a pleasure to meet you.”

And with that, she was gone. Emmony stood, stunned, clutching her wrist to her chest as she watched the woman vanish into the encroaching fog over the marsh. 


	4. Chapter 4

The night of the ball, Emmony was so miserable that she had nearly forgotten about Lynette. That is, until the hands of the man she was dancing with (hell if she knew who he was) fell away unexpectedly and were replaced with smaller ones. She awoke out of the trance she’d been in all evening and was greeted with the face of the mercenary and a charming grin. She immediately panicked.

“What are you  _ doing? _ If my father sees-”

“Don’t worry, Highness. I have some experience with this kind of thing.” Lynette winked and gestured at herself, and Emmony realized she was dressed in men’s clothing- a well-tailored dress suit that hid her chest. Her hair, already short save for her longer bangs, was brushed back in a more masculine fashion. Emmony glanced around, and indeed, it seemed nobody had noticed that a woman was dancing with the princess. 

Even so, she knew she should let go and stop dancing. But she couldn’t seem to make herself release Lynette. She found herself unable… or unwilling? No, it couldn’t be. Her hands and feet were simply not under her control.

And yet... she liked the feeling of Lynette’s hands, one gently clasping hers and one resting on her waist. They were firm and tough, but smaller and more delicate than the hands she was used to. She attempted to push these thoughts away, but failed. 

Lynette was a little bit taller than her. Not much, just enough to be noticable when they were this close. She hadn’t noticed before. She also hadn’t noticed that Lynette’s eyes were a deep, warm brown, but she definitely had now. She couldn’t tear her own away from them. Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest.

“I’d like to see you again,” Lynette murmured, after what seemed like hours. “And I’d hate to have to wait an entire month for the next one of these to do that.”

“I- I shouldn’t…” Emmony said weakly, unfocused. “I can’t. You’re a commoner. Not to mention a  _ woman _ .”

For some reason, Lynette looked over Emmony’s shoulder, glaring at something behind her. But a moment later, her gaze had softened and returned to Emmony. “You might not believe it, but…” She chuckled and shook her head. “No, nevermind. Listen, what if I… what if I come to your window? Tomorrow night.” The music was coming to a close.

“My window is thirty feet off the ground.”

Lynette smiled devilishly. “As if that could stop me.”

Emmony finally looked away from Lynette’s face. She couldn’t say yes, could she?

… What was the harm? It wasn’t as though it was a courtship. Lynette was a woman, after all. Yes, it was completely platonic. Just a visit. ...Yeah.

“Very well.” She raised her chin and turned away, finally removing her hands from Lynette. “It’s the window on the southwestern tower.” She took several steps away. At the feast table across the room, her father stood and raised his glass, preparing for a farewell speech. He noticed her in the crowd and looked pleasantly surprised at her continued presence- normally she’d left long before the ball ended. Not wanting to be called to speak, she hurried away up a side staircase, catching a glimpse of Lynette smiling at her as she went.


End file.
